


the way you go (thought i told you so)

by snitches_get_stitches



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, Cheating, Domestic Violence, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1671578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snitches_get_stitches/pseuds/snitches_get_stitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler just doesn't know what to do anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way you go (thought i told you so)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first in this fandom so like sorry if it sucks idk
> 
> also sorry if i made josh sound like a dick in this he is NOT a dick he is the sweetest thing that ever lived please do not make any assumptions of his character based on this fic lmao
> 
> anyways please comment or whatever i appreciate those a lot <3
> 
> **tyler and josh own themselves, fictional adaptions of real people, blah blah creative commons copyrights

Tyler knew.

It wasn't a secret; how could he _not_ know, really, when Josh came home every night with mussed hair and smelling like another girl's perfume, not looking at Tyler and instead heading straight to bed.  
  
Tyler sleeps on the couch those nights.  
  
X  
  
"G'morning, beautiful," Josh would usually murmur into his ear the next morning, arms wrapping around Tyler's waist from behind. Tyler would grin despite himself, even laugh a little when Josh would press sloppy, affectionate kisses to his temple, but he would still squirm out of Josh's arms when large hands would reach for the hem of his shirt.  
  
x  
  
"Josh," Tyler pipes up one day, elbow deep in soap suds. He needs to start wearing gloves when he does the dishes, because he can feel the soapy, chemical water sinking into the skin of his hands and no doubt leaving them shriveled up like prunes. "Josh, what—what would you do if I left you?"  
  
Tyler doesn't turn around; he instead listens to the hitch in Josh's breath as the significance of the questions sinks in.  
  
"What do you mean?" Josh finally answers, articulating his words slowly and carefully. Tyler swallows, still doesn't turn around, only scrubs slowly at a sauce pan he's been washing for far longer than he needs to.  
  
"I mean—just, like, theoretically. If, if I decided to break up with you. What would you do?"  
  
There's a pause before Josh's response.  
  
"Well, I'd let you, I guess," is all he says before he's turning up TV volume again and tuning Tyler out.  
  
For some reason, his answer hurt Tyler more than anything else he could have said.  
  
X  
  
"Bed, bed," Josh gasps wetly against Tyler's throat, and Tyler whimpers, barely manages to nod as he walks them backward towards the mattress. He’s clinging weakly to Josh’s shoulders, fingers smoothing over the fabric of his boyfriend’s T-shirt as Josh presses hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses to his throat. Every kiss makes Tyler weak at the knees, but when the backs of them hit the mattress it snaps him out of it for long enough to gently push Josh back, trying to regain his breath.

Josh is looking at him inquisitively, pulling away from his throat to instead furrow his eyebrows at Tyler. He’s still gripping Tyler by his biceps, gently, his grasp loose enough to pull out of if Tyler wants to. He stays put, though—the gentle stroke of Josh’s thumb against the soft skin on the inside of his elbow is oddly relaxing.

“Josh,” Tyler starts, and doesn’t know how to finish it. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.

Josh waits patiently for a few moments before he lets Tyler sink down onto the bed, shoulders slumped as he sat. Josh kneels in front of him, still gently stroking his arm. “Everything okay, Ty?”

And Tyler wants to _cry_ , because he doesn’t want to bring this up _now_ —not when Josh is everything Tyler wants him to be, not when he’s being so sweet and caring and focusing all of his attention on Tyler. But then Tyler thinks about mussed hair and other girls’ perfumes and his anger begins to build again. “Josh,” he says aimlessly again, before—“ _Josh_.” He sees Josh’s expression change, shifting from one of concern to one of mild alarm. “I—I think I want to break up.”

Josh stares blankly at him for a few seconds, blinking his dark eyes once, then twice. Tyler tenses and waits for a response. “…what,” he finally says, and Tyler can’t figure out if he’s about to become a bawling mess or an angry jumble of violence. He’s not sure which would be worse.

“I—I want to break up.” Tyler tries to sound firmer this time, but his voice still cracks on the last syllable.

Josh pulls his hands away from Tyler’s arms and stands up, backing up a few steps and looking down at him. Tyler doesn’t meet his eyes. “You—ugh,” Tyler can hear the frustration in his tone, knows Josh is pressing the heels of his hands into his closed eyes and sighing. He always does that when he needs to think. “You want to break up,” Josh parrots, but his voice sounds muffled, like he’s still hiding his face in his hands.

Tyler twists and pulls at his hands in his lap, before finally looking up at Josh, determined to be affirmative this time. “Yes, I want us to break up.”

Josh pulls his hands away from his face, folds them together instead, and fixes Tyler with a stare that tells him he’s still trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Okay,” he finally decides on, still staring at Tyler dead in the eye. “Okay, then, fine. We’re broken up. Just—just leave, and we’ll be broken up.”

Tyler stares at him in disbelief. “I—that’s _it_?” he finally cries out, standing. Josh stands his ground. “You’re not even—you don’t even want to _talk_ about this?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it!” Josh shoots back, raising his voice. “You want to leave? Go ahead, leave! See if I care!”

And Tyler—Tyler can’t _believe_ this, can’t believe that Josh, someone he’s been with for _years_ , someone he would have trusted with his _life_ , cares so little about their relationship that he’ll just let Tyler walk out the door without even _trying_ to make him to stay.

He’s stunned completely still for several long moments, but then he finally snaps, and his anger gets the best of him. He shoves past Josh angrily, marching towards the closet to grab a handful of random articles of clothing, shoving them into a backpack that he had almost tripped on when crossing the threshold. He thinks for a brief moment that they really need to clean up sometime, but then remembers that they just broke up and Josh can take care of it himself, the bastard.

“Fine,” he finally breathes out in response, trying to retain the sobs pushing at his throat. “That’s just _fine_ , I’ll just grab my stuff and get out of this stupid place. I hate it anyway,” and for some reason, it feels good to just spew out a few solid words of hatred. _Gosh_ , he really hates this stupid apartment. “You know what else I hate, Josh?” he continues, because he’s an idiot who doesn’t know when to shut up. He grabs a few more pieces of clothing and throws them carelessly into the backpack, before turning to face his ex. Josh has his arms crossed, eyebrow raised expectantly, but Tyler can see the glare behind it. “I hate—I _hate_ your stupid goddamn hair,” and he feels stupidly smug when Josh jerks back in surprise. Tyler never swears. _Never_. “I hate your stupid goddamn hair, and I hate your stupid Kanye West records, and I _hate_ how you never _fucking_ clean up after yourself after dinner, and I hate when you come home with another girl’s perfume on you and _think I’m stupid enough_ to not understand what’s going on, because you know what? That hurts. You played me like an idiot, and I fucking let you—“

But then Josh is stepping forward and grabbing Tyler by the front of his shirt, and Tyler pushes at him, dropping the backpack. “Shut _up_ ,” he hisses, shaking Tyler, before turning and deciding to shove him up against the wall, and Tyler cries out when his back hits the wall with a slam. “Just shut _up_ , Tyler, you _never_ know when to just _shut up_ —“

“Let _go_ _of me!_ ” Tyler screams, pushing at Josh with one hand and trying to loosen Josh’s grip on his shirt with the other. Josh is bigger than him, though, stronger—always has been, and Tyler really wishes he had set aside more time to work out.

Finally, Tyler simply yanks Josh close and jerks his knee up hard against his crotch, hears Josh swear and loosen his grip on his shirt. He shoves Josh off and makes a run for it, not thinking to grab his backpack or his wallet, and instead just making a mad dash out the bedroom door and to the kitchen where his keys are. He hears footsteps right behind him, though, and before he can make a grab for his keys he feels arms wrap around his waist from behind and haul him up.

“You—you _fucking_ bitch,” Josh wheezes behind him, and Tyler’s genuinely terrified now because Josh _never_ calls him names, _never_ swears at him, no matter how angry he’s been before. Tyler struggles as best he can as Josh drags him back to the bedroom, but there’s not much he can do in this position besides squirm and yell. “Stop _struggling_ , I swear to _God_ , Tyler, why do you always have to make things so _difficult_ —“

“Why did _you_ have to _cheat_ , we wouldn’t be—”

“ _No_ ,” Josh simply cuts in, firmly, throwing Tyler down on the mattress with more force than necessary. Tyler flips over to face him immediately, scrambling back, but Josh grabs him by the legs and drags him forward again, climbing on top of him. “ _You’re_ the one that never confronted me once about it, _you’re_ the one that didn’t care—”

“You’re the one who _did it!_ ” Tyler fires back accusingly, but then Josh is pinning him down with one hand and backhanding him across the face with the other.

Everything seems to freeze after that; neither of them dares to move. The slap was hard enough force Tyler’s head to the side, and his cheek is stinging like hell, but he doesn’t dare move.

It’s still for another few moments before Tyler feels Josh backs off of him slowly, breathing fast. “I—Tyler,” he says, seeming lost for words.

Tyler turns to face him slowly, opening eyes even though he doesn’t remember shutting them. Josh is standing, now, staring at Tyler wide-eyed and still breathing harshly. “Tyler, please,” Josh says, and Tyler doesn’t know what he’s pleading for.

Tyler sits up slowly, trying to gain control of his breathing and avoiding eye contact, unsure of what to do. “Josh,” he says, softly. He doesn’t know what to follow it up with.

He doesn’t have to, though, because Josh is rushing forward again and gently cupping Tyler’s face in his hands, stroking his cheek in apology. “Gosh, Tyler,” he repeats, again, and he definitely sounds choked up this time. “Tyler, I’m so sorry, I’m so _sorry_ —”

And then Tyler is throwing his arms around Josh’s neck and crying, because he doesn’t know what else to do. “Josh,” he sobs, “ _Josh_ , God, please don’t leave me, please don’t—”

And then Josh is shushing him, crying too, warm hands gently stroking Tyler’s back.

X

Tyler wakes up the next morning warm and comfortable, oddly relaxed in a way he usually only is after sex. It takes him a moment to realize there’s a hand gently stroking his face, tracing over his cheek.

He lets himself wake up slowly, eyelids fluttering before they fully open to be greeted with the sight of Josh, sleepy-eyed and smiling softly at him. “Hey,” he greets. “You feel okay?”

Tyler takes a moment to think about it, but eventually nods, smiling. “Yeah, I feel okay. I feel good, actually, I think.” Josh smiles a little wider and leans forward to kiss him, gently. It’s soft and chaste, something they haven’t shared in a long time. Tyler sighs into it, a little.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” Josh whispers against Tyler’s lips. “I’m so sorry, about everything. I’ll never let it happen again, okay?” His voice is sleepy and soft, but there’s a firmness about it that let’s Tyler know he’s being serious. “Do you forgive me?”

Tyler nods, slowly. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’ll forgive you.” He leans forward to kiss Josh again, and he feels at home. “Although I might forgive you a little bit faster if you make the coffee today.”

Josh laughs, and for once, Tyler knows what to do.


End file.
